


I've slept with the Devil a hundred times

by Fleem



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: AU, M/M, Original Character(s), Prequel, Sorry no Buffy, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 15:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21038462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fleem/pseuds/Fleem
Summary: Sal has known Lucifer since the 70s, but they aren't as close as they used to be. He's keeping different company these days.  A very short epilogue toA long-denied thirst for things green and alive





	I've slept with the Devil a hundred times

They were like reptiles, bloodthirsty and indifferent, but they would do for the time being. He wasn't ready for anything meaningful, he only wanted sensation, release, unbridled action, and now that he'd found them, he could have it. 

Sal had his own special appeal to the vampires. He both terrified and fascinated them, and he used this leverage to his advantage as much as possible. They'd get a whiff and be transfixed.

"I've slept with the Devil a hundred times," Sal would say. "We're very close friends." 

"That's incredibly hot." The vampires would inhale against Sal's neck like sommeliers tasting a fine vintage. "What's he like?" 

"Better than you'll ever be. Every night with him is the best night. Such talented hands, such a sweet ass. A beautiful filthy mouth that makes me writhe and scream and wish I was dead and thank him for it afterward. But he is busy these days, too busy for the likes of us." 

"Is he here? In LA?"

"You bet. And you'd do well to stay away from him. He's no fan of the undead. If he finds you he'll kill you in the blink of an eye. If you hear he's anywhere nearby, run."

"Thanks for the warning. How will we know if he's here?"

"He can't go anywhere without making a grand entrance. If he walks into a room you'll feel it. He'll pull you to him like iron filings to a magnet. Like gravity. But stay away. He's irresistible to humans, but he can't kill them with a glance the way he can you. And he'd be furious if anything happened to me." 

The less savvy ones would reverently sniff at his wrists and neck, trying to detect a hint of Devil in his bouquet, thank him for the advice, and scuttle away, furtively watching over their shoulders lest Satan appeared out of a whirlwind to sweep them into nothingness. The smarter ones would scoff and declare that Lucifer was an urban legend and Sal was full of shit.

"Yeah, and the Slayer's an urban legend too, right?"

The vampires knew she wasn't.

Oscar was different, although there was no reason for him to be. He was just another bloodsucker, but there was a light in his opaque blue eyes that the others didn't have, a gentle laugh in his voice that contrasted with their typical sneering indifference. 

"See you around, and you can touch me where the sun don't shine," Oscar would say, a half-smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and a promise of more, later. He was worth seeking out, despite his obvious need for more than Sal was willing or ready to let him have. 

Sal would hold Oscar by the beige-blond hair and kiss him roughly, running his tongue over the unnatural fangs that would erupt whenever he'd cross a threshold of tension. Touch or blood or rage evoked a similar response in his lover: as if a demon was rearranging the contours of his face from the inside; the eyes feral, golden, and catlike; fangs promising pain and danger and adrenaline. It was all excitement and burbling energy, and Sal wanted to drink it the way Oscar wanted blood. It was usually a fair trade.

Sometimes Sal would let Oscar have a taste of him, the rivulet of blood oozing from his wrist with Oscar's cool mouth lapping and sucking like a child at the breast. Sustaining his partner with his body made Sal feel protective, almost parental. He'd stroke Oscar's nursing cheek and kiss the crown of his head tenderly, inhaling its aroma of rock-dust and cologne.

Sal's urges were far from parental, though, and despite his youthful appearance, Oscar was no child.

Sal knew Lucifer did not approve, but fuck him. Sal had had enough of mortals and their judgment and paranoia. He had neither shame nor fear. This time on Earth was a gift, and he was damn well going to enjoy what he'd been given.


End file.
